


Foiled Again

by kronette



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little ficlet I wrote to include in Christmas cards to special friends in 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foiled Again

John watched in bemusement as Sherlock paced the length and breadth of their flat while muttering to himself. The lights from the Christmas tree bounced off his hair as he did a sharp turn, and it was all John could do not to laugh.

"Just get on with it," Sherlock snapped at him. 

Unable to hide his merriment, John let go the burst of laughter he'd been holding back. "Sorry, Sherlock, it's just…"

Sherlock waved an impatient hand at him. "Yes, yes; the light plays off my shining hair, casting a halo around my otherwise naughty head. Don't you have anything better to do?"

John pursed his lips and pretended to think about it. He settled back in the chair, propped his feet up on the footrest, and made a clicking sound with his tongue, just to annoy Sherlock more. "Nope." 

Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Sherlock flung himself onto the couch, his robe flaring behind him dramatically. His hands came together beneath his nose, the edges pressed against his lips in thought. "He can't be real. It's impossible." 

John tilted his head. "Wasn't it you who said, 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'?"

A disgusted noise emanated from Sherlock. "Oh, how typically droll; throwing my own words back at me." 

John grinned at him, though Sherlock was facing away from him. "Yes, but it's true, isn't it?" He stood up from the chair and stretched. "I'm off to bed. Coming?" he asked, knowing full well that Sherlock wouldn't join him, tonight of all nights. After all, he had a world-wide mystery to solve. "Happy Christmas, Sherlock." 

He heard a muttered reply, though he couldn't hope to make it out. Still grinning, John retired to their bedroom where he slipped beneath the cool sheets. He made sure that his alarm was shut off, then clicked off the light. Mrs. Hudson would bring up the presents sometime in the early morning, after Sherlock had nodded off to sleep. 

And the great consulting detective Sherlock Holmes would once again be foiled by Father Christmas.


End file.
